Review: David Fincher makes his mark with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Cinemagoers have speculated just how much darker would be David Fincher’s take on the late Stieg Larsson’s cheerily titled novel Men Who Hate Women. The original Swedish-language film from 2009 didn’t leave much wiggle room, but Fincher includes a scene in which a deranged killer, about to do his thing, first cranks Orinoco Flow by Irish New Age singer-songwriter Enya. Now that is some twisted stuff.

Fincher has been to some dark places in his movies. Most germane are his 1995 thriller Se7en, about a serial killer working his way through the deadly sins; and the more recent Zodiac, which should have been called Tw12ve. This one starts out with but a single murder, and perhaps not even that.

Christopher Plummer plays Henrik Vanger, a Swedish industrialist somehow unconnected with either Volvo or Ericsson. He contacts left-wing journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig), who has just been slapped with a huge fine for libeling another captain of industry.

Blomkvist’s mission, should he choose to accept it, is to investigate the disappearance and presumed murder of Henrik’s favourite niece, Harriet. The case would be cold even if it hadn’t happened on a remote northern island where the Vanger clan lives in chilly seclusion, barely speaking to one another. The events in question also took place some 40 years ago.

Fans of the first film will no doubt track Fincher’s transgressions obsessively, but the first major change is that the Swedish film had Blomkvist facing jail time for his libel conviction. With six months freedom before his sentence began (a waiting list for prison?) he was able to accept Henrik’s proposal with a built-in deadline. Fincher gives his protagonist more freedom, but also more reason to take on the well-paying gig. Henrik evens dangles the possibility that he can clear the journalist’s name.

In either case, Blomkvist has been vetted by Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), an unorthodox computer hacker; though if anyone can find an orthodox one in the movies, please let me know. Diminutive but dangerous in her platform boots and multiple piercings, Lisbeth would probably cause Johnny Rotten to lower his gaze and maybe cross the street.

Branded a ward of the state (something to do with kicking a hornets’ nest and playing with fire), Lisbeth must make regular appearances before Jabba the Civil Servant (Yorick van Wageningen). He forces all manner of indignity on her, until she fights back with a stunning combination of Taser, spy cam and tattoo gun, putting him firmly in his place.

When Blomkvist learns that someone’s been electronically peering over his shoulder, he shows up at Lisbeth’s door – love her profane nightwear – and convinces her to help crack the case. Amid the clutter of Henrik’s decades-old files he finds a string of names and numbers written in the dead girl’s hand, and a old photograph in which she seems to be staring fearfully at someone across the street, just as someone beside her is snapping a photo. Hmm …

Watching Blomkvist and Salander comb through newspaper files and track down elderly maybe-witnesses in a stunningly bleak Nordic winter setting is an immensely satisfying cinematic comfort food, taking the edge off some of the film’s more visceral moments. Blomkvist even uses a magnifying glass; take that, Robert Downey Jr./Sherlock Holmes! Fincher knows how to parcel out the thrills, and even though much of this remake is shot-for-shot (or at least scene-for-scene) it’s different enough to allow him to put his own stamp on the story.

Some of that comes through in the musical choices. Enya aside, the soundtrack includes some powerful selections, none more than a thrash cover of Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song by Nine Inch Nails, with Karen O on vocals; a suitably jarring opening. A bit of noise I started thinking of as Lisbeth’s Theme sounded like a scratchy record.

The actors were well chosen. Plummer makes for a jolly old codger. Craig has either gained weight or donned bulky sweaters, but he looks believably un-Bond-like as Blomkvist. Mara may be familiar as Mark Zuckerberg’s girlfriend in Fincher’s last film, The Social Network. Or maybe not, with her black hair, omnipresent cigarette and androgynous motorcycle fashion (although all of that disappears in one scene only hinted at in the Swedish original).

Although Fincher’s Girl is an English-language affair, the director made the decision to shoot in Sweden. As a result, we must square with the inconsistency of characters speaking English while reading Swedish newspapers and street signs. It’s disconcerting, even when the dialogue by Steve Zaillian (Moneyball) crackles like icicles: “Bring your drink. Leave my knife.”

Fincher’s remake is in the paradoxical position of being both immensely enjoyable and completely unnecessary. Niels Arden Oplev’s Dragon Tattoo remains wonderfully watchable, and had the fringe benefit of catapulting its Mikael and Lisbeth into Hollywood roles, in Mission: Impossible and Sherlock Holmes, respectively. With Fincher’s take, you can see it again for the first time.